


And is This What You Call Home

by thought



Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: D/s, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-17
Updated: 2015-05-17
Packaged: 2018-03-30 23:11:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,774
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3955465
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thought/pseuds/thought
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There comes a point, once the fires are put out, that you must choose your place in the ashes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	And is This What You Call Home

Jensen's hair is neon green.

"I like the new look," Carolina says. Jensen squeaks. She's shoulders deep under the hood of a freshly painted truck, parked illegally out in the street in front of the New Republic HQ. Bitters is sitting on the back bumper, trying to catch raindrops on his tongue.

"Um," Jensen says. "Oh! My hair! Because I changed it! It's green now! I mean, thank you! Ma'am."

Bitters snickers. "For real, you must be so good in bed. There's no other way you convinced Volleyball to date you."

Jensen straightens up, her face already bright red. She opens her mouth a couple times, eyes fixed in horror on Carolina. Carolina tries to appear non-threatening, which is made easier by the way her hopes and dreams are dripping away at the exact same rate as the rain is dripping into her fresh cup of coffee.

"At least I'm dating someone," Jensen mutters eventually.

"Emphasis on the one. And only. In your entire life."

Jensen goes impossibly redder and spits something vicious at him in Russian. He tips his head back as far as it will go and opens his mouth wide. Jensen glares. Carolina starts inching under the protection of the overhanging tree branches beside the front steps.

"So Kimball wants you to move the car," Carolina says. "But I'm more curious to know what you're doing to it."

"Oh no," Jensen says. "Captain Tucker said it'd be OK if I worked out here."

Carolina arches an eyebrow. "And you believed him?"

Jensen shrugs slightly. "I mean, he is a captain, and he seems like he sort of knows what he's doing but I probably should've asked someone else, I'm sorry, I--"

Carolina holds up a hand. "It's fine. What are you working on?"

"Right!" Jensen holds up a piece of equipment dangling a variety of brightly coloured wires like it should mean something. Carolina retreats closer to the tree. "It's... The engine. The connecting rods on your standard--"

"She's making it go really fast," Bitters cuts in. Carolina perks up.

"Um, yeah," Jensen says. "I guess the details are pretty boring. But I'm just about done, I only need like five more minutes and then I'll get out of the way."

Carolina grins a bit. "Tell you what," she says. "You finish up, and then you can explain how you did it while we take it for a test drive."

Jensen's eyes get very wide. "I- it's not exactly street legal, and I'm sure you have more important things to do..."

Carolina shakes her head. "Hey, you're supposed to move it. And taking the opportunity to learn about a field where my knowledge is limited is an important use of my time."

Jensen bobs her head up and down too long, swipes her arm across her forehead, and ducks back under the hood. Carolina gives up on dignity and tucks herself right up against the trunk of the tree. Leaves rest wetly on her shoulders and arms, water trickles down the back of her hoody (OK, Vanessa's hoody, technically) over her neck, but no more rain lands in her coffee.

Jensen finishes up in silence. Rain patters steadily down on the leaves above Carolina's head and from a few blocks away she can hear the shriek and grind of construction equipment.

"Ok," Jensen says after three minutes. "That should do it. I hope."

Carolina's eyebrows creep upward, but she doesn't comment. Jensen glances back at her uncertainly, hands held awkwardly in front of her then jammed in the pockets of her baggy fatigues. Carolina disengages from her friend the tree and abandons her coffee cup on the side of the stairs. Jensen hovers beside the driver side door, but as soon as Carolina starts in the same direction she scampers over to the passenger side.

"You want to drive, Lieutenant?" Carolina asks, holding her hands up and nodding toward the truck.

"Um, no, no you should probably do that," Jensen says. She's already buckled herself in. "I can give you directions. If you want, obviously."

Carolina hops in, wipes rain out of her face, and starts the engine. Jensen exhales.

"Ok," she says. "Didn't blow up. That means we're good!"

"...was That a possibility?"

"Only like, a 0.003 chance, really. Nobody's ever tried this configuration, is all."

"Never?"

"Nah. I designed one of the parts myself." She leans out her window, green ponytail flopping out to hang cheerfully in midair. "Hey, asshole! Get off the truck, I don't wanna explain to your sister why you're a pancake!"

Carolina doesn't wait to see Bitters walk away from the truck, she just shifts gears and slams on the accelerator. The tires shriek and scramble for purchase on the wet pavement, and something under the hood groans alarmingly, but the truck barrels forward nonetheless. She keeps them within the speed limit until they're out of down town and on emptier streets. It's a difficult challenge, and she distracts herself by attempting small talk. Jensen's anxiety is practically another passenger in the truck, and it's making Carolina twitchy.

"I didn't know you were descended Russian," Carolina says.

Jensen shrugs. "Yeah. That's how I know Anton, both of our families work mobile mining in the South, but our parents still wanted us to have some sense of culture. Which can be tough when you're moving every six months. Our families got special permission to be rotated together, so there were always at least a few familiar faces, and then we went off to university at the same time. Even if he did pick philosophy like a pretentious jerk."

Carolina frowns. "You anglicised your names?"

Jensen's shoulders hunch a bit. "You do a lot of things when you join a revolution before you turn twenty-one. I'm still Yekaterina officially, but it'd be really weird to go back to being Katya after five years of being Katie, you know?"

Carolina, who has not thought of herself by her birth name in four years, says "Yes," and slams the gas peddle to the floor.

***

No one dies. Carolina doesn't hit anyone; there are no accidents; the car does not explode, Jensen has the biggest grin Carolina's seen on anyone ever when they get back to the parking garage under HQ. And yet Vanessa still tracks her down later that afternoon to stand over her beaming 'not angry just disappointed' directly into her brain. Carolina sets down her datapad, taking her time about it, and slowly looks up to meet Vanessa's gaze.

"You have a meeting in ten minutes," she says.

Vanessa sighs. "I know. And you spent forty-five minutes speeding an illegal experimental vehicle around the city this morning with no warning or safety equipment."

"Hmm," says Carolina.

Vanessa runs her hands through her hair. The disappointment has faded to earnest confusion. "Why?"

"Jensen deserved an opportunity to show off. And I was bored. Her engine modifications work perfectly, incidentally."

Vanessa opens her mouth, closes it. Carolina's breath is calm and even, her heartrate steady, her mind clear. She deliberately looks away from Vanessa, spends six seconds watching raindrops on the window.

"Please don't do something like that again," Vanessa says finally. "And I'm reassigning Captain Simmons' troop equipment budget to you."

"That seems fair," Carolina says. "Will I see you for dinner tonight?"

Vanessa drops her hands to her sides and sends a helpless glance up at the ceiling. "Yes, of course."

Carolina nods, and waits for Kimball to wander out of her office before she returns to her datapad.

***

"I have gifts for you," Vanessa announces, descending on the bench where Carolina is drinking tea with Tucker and Bones in the atrium. Vanessa's the sort of vibratingly off-centre energetic that means she probably hasn't slept in a couple days, but she's also smiling warm and pleased.

"The last time you said that it was more paperwork," Tucker says.

"Which is technically accurate this time as well," Vanessa admits. "Check your email."

Carolina sets aside her cup and pulls up her email. "Are these employment contracts?" she asks.

"They are indeed. As of this morning I can officially offer you payment and job security under the purview of The Joint Provisional Government of Chorus. You'll have to set up accounts if you don't have anything active, but you're legitimized in the eyes of the banks now."

"The banks were barely legitimized as of six months ago," Bones says dryly. And then to Carolina "They haven't even been paying you?"

"We've been well-compensated," Carolina says, a little defensive. Tucker snorts, but she elbows him hard in the ribs and he shuts up.

"It's also going to provide you with a bit of a safety net once Charon's lawyers start poking around," Vanessa says. "At the moment we don't have the process in place to offer any of you citizenship, but you're still significantly more protected if there's a paper trail to your continued presence here."

"You're thinking Hargrove will try for assassinations?" Carolina asks.

"I'm thinking the UNSC were easily convinced that you were heroes, and it's not particularly difficult to replace heroes with war criminals."

"Oh good," says Tucker. "I'd get bonus treason, for the record."

"Aren't you grateful for the paperwork now?" Vanessa asks, smirking. Tucker rolls his eyes.

"If there's anything you're unsure about, you can feel free to ask myself or Doyle," Vanessa says. "Or, you know, one of the experts who actually drafted most of the contracts."

Carolina scrolls further down the document. "I have a question," she says promptly. Her spoken Hindi is still terrible, but her comprehension is verbally conversant and written inching ever closer to fluent.

"I'm shocked," Vanessa says flatly.

"This says I'm a consultant outside of the military chain of command. I don't answer to you." She's getting that swooping sensation like free fall, and her hands are suddenly freezing cold. Everything seems too loud and bright and sharp.

"Yes. That's right," Vanessa says.

Bones says, soft enough not to draw attention, "breathe, you're safe, you're in The New Republic HQ, you're out of armour but you're safe."

Carolina holds up a hand. It's not shaking. "I'm-- It's not bad. I'm OK."

Tuckers politely pretending to look the other way. Vanessa looks a bit like she's accidentally kicked a puppy. "There's a reason," she says. "Carolina. Can we talk? I'll explain."

Carolina gets up, takes her tea with her. Bones shakes her head slightly, and taps her fingers like she's craving a cigarette.

Carolina follows Vanessa up the open staircase and down the hallways to Carolina's office. Once they're inside, Vanessa takes one of the uncomfortable plastic chairs and moves it so she can sit close to Carolina without blocking her access to the door. Carolina sits down, sets her cup and datapad on her desk. She already feels a bit ridiculous for her reaction.

"I've asked that you be classified as a consultant for a few reasons," Vanessa says. "Firstly, because I do feel it most accurately represents your position, as well as not restricting you to one field or specialisation. But more importantly, it's because I'm not comfortable having professional authority over you while we're also in a personal relationship. Especially considering some of the things we've discussed."

"I've told you a hundred times, you couldn't make me do anything I didn't want to do," Carolina says. "And I am comfortable with that level of authority, you know that."

"I'm not," Vanessa says. "But let me finish."

Carolina sits back. Waiting.

"This is also about trust. As you know after everything with Felix-- I mean, everything that happened with the entire war, really-- I do struggle to trust. I do it anyway, because as a leader I can't afford not to, but it's something I have to work at."

Carolina has seen the way Vanessa refuses to discuss anything important in the open, the way her first instinct is still to duck her head when anyone in uniform passes her in the street. She's tried to crack the security on Vanessa's datapad. Carolina suspects Felix did far less damage than Vanessa gives him credit for-- Chorus itself had laid the foundations long before the mercenaries had shown up.

Vanessa continues, hands clasped together in her lap. "Our circumstances have changed. Before now, I was holding back, I suppose. I needed to be able to trust that at the end of the day you wouldn't say no if I gave you an order in the context of our professional positions. I appreciate your guidance and challenges and creativity, but Chorus was in such a fragile position that I was frightened of having yet another factor out of my control when everything I did had to be so carefully designed. And secondly, once we began discussing power dynamics in the context of our personal relationship, it became very clear to me that I needed to be able to trust you to say no. And knowing what I did about your history, I didn't entirely feel comfortable making that assertion." She holds up a hand before Carolina can speak. "Which was disrespectful of me, and I'm sorry. I was frightened, which is not an excuse, but is the only explanation I can offer you."

"And now?" Carolina asks.

Vanessa ducks her head. "I trust you. I trust that in our professional positions you would not say no without a damn good reason, and that you'd communicate with me about that. I don't need or want that relationship made concrete through a contract, and to be honest I don't want the possible accusations that could arise if anyone decided to use it as a smear tactic."

"Which implies that you trust me to say no in a personal context," Carolina says evenly. "How generous of you."

Vanessa bows her head. "I should've talked to you more about this," she says. "I'm not sure my opinion would've changed, but that was a decision we should've made together."

Carolina inclines her head, makes the conscious decision to let her anger go. That's a thing she can do now.

***

That weekend, Bones spends an hour walking Carolina through some basic yoga poses. It's strangely sunny, and the giant windows in Bones' little two-room flat let the light spill over the hardwood, washing away the gloomy damp of the rain from forgotten dusty corners. Carolina lies on her back in the sunlight and listens to the sounds of people going about their lives through the thin walls and feels warm for the first time in months.

When she gets home Vanessa is curled up on the couch, working while her coffee goes cold beside her. Carolina kicks off her boots and pads across the carpet to stand directly in front of Vanessa. Once Vanessa looks up at her, Carolina folds, deliberate and graceful, down to her knees. Vanessa releases a soft breath.

"Since subtlety is apparently lost on you," Carolina says calmly.

"I should've expected this," Vanessa says, amused. Carolina nods.

"I think," Carolina's says, smirking a bit. "That you should put away those reports and we should move this to the bedroom."

Vanessa brings up a hand to stroke fingers across Carolina's cheek, sifts through the tips of her hair. "I think," she says, easy and quiet. "That's not your decision to make."

Carolina breathes out, and it's like releasing a muscle she didn't realize was tense, like sunlight sinking warmth down through her skin and into her bones. Maybe, she thinks, it's like feeling safe.

***

Later, when Carolina's dragged Vanessa out for a walk (she's going to enjoy the fucking sunlight if she has to murder someone to do so) Vanessa brings up the employment contract.

"You'll have to put a name down," she says. "It doesn't necessarily have to be your legal name according to which ever planet you were born on, but it needs to be something you can use for accounts and identification. So, you know. Not first name Agent, last name Carolina."

Carolina thinks about it. "Carolina Church," she says. "That's probably the most accurate."

"You sure? You're free to pick something else if you'd rather not have those links to your past."

Carolina shakes her head. "I own what I did," she says. "And what I'm doing now. There's a lot of good in amongst the awful stuff. It might not be a solid foundation, but it's what I've got."

"If there's anyone who can do it," Vanessa says, bumping her hip against Carolina's affectionately.

***

The next time Carolina sees Katie Jensen, her hair is hot pink. Carolina gives her a thumbs up as she hurries past.


End file.
